


Bridge gone wrong

by Kurotsuki_no_hana



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: M/M, cat's ears and tail, experimentation gone wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11639202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurotsuki_no_hana/pseuds/Kurotsuki_no_hana
Summary: Why did it end up like this! All he wanted to do was go to Cybertron via their Spacebridge to solve his little 'problem', and now here he was, on top of their worst enemy! The fact he was turned part cat was not helping ...





	1. Chapter 1

Why did it end up like this? The only thing he wanted – needed! – was to go to Cybertron, nothing more. So why did he end up in this situation?! If it wasn’t bad enough he looked like … like _that_ , and that it was Sentinel who answered when he called Ultra Magnus, the spacebridge had to malfunction and sent him on top of his enemy. And not just any Decepticon, noo-o, it _had_ to be Megatron! 

… Sometimes he wondered if Primus was playing with him. It had to be. If not, then why did he have to walk into Professor Sumdac tinkering with some experiment which blew up in his face? Why did this experiment managed to give him these ears and tail? And why did his enemy have to see him like this?! 

His only consolation was Sentinel reaction when he saw him. He must have though he somehow became a Techno-organic, because he freaked out. Bad. If he wasn’t so embarrassed himself by the situation he would have laughed. And oh was he embarrassed right now, almost laying on Megatron, with his servos on his chest and legs intertwined with his. And the fragger – after the surprise wore off – had the gall to smirk down at him, one servo holding him to his frame by his waist, fingers really too close from his aft for comfort. He was ready to bolt when said servo tightened his grip, pulling him flush against the other. 

“And where do you think you are going, Autobot?” Again with the title. Would it offline him to call him by his designation! 

“I have a name!” He replied automatically. “And away from you!” He then tried to wriggle free for the bigger mech, pushing against him and bringing his legs up to have more leverage, but his struggles seemed to only amuse the warmonger more. Again. Fragger. He only relented when the servo holding him crept down to his aft and to the base of his tail, his frame immediately tensing in apprehension. 

“Now what with the rush, _Optimus_?” The smirk only grew bigger when he trembled at the tingling sensation coursing through him. “I promise I will not kill you.” He whispered against an antenna. “I wonder …” He licked his antenna, nibbling the end. “What noises you could make for me, little Prime.”

Optimus whimpered. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want any of this! Feeling the hand creeping down he did the only thing anybot would do in his position.

He slashed out. 

He head-butt the warmonger with as much force as he could, the shock seemingly splitting his helm in two, but it had the desired effect. Stunned by the unexpected pain, Megatron released his grip a little, enough for him to wriggle free get away from the other. A pained groan made him turn in time to see the larger mech standing up, a servo rubbing his chin and dark red optics on him. It was not the first time it happened – him being stared at by Megatron, but usually they were fighting with him and trying to prevent the destruction of the town and/or to keep the Allspark’s fragments safe. Which, to this day, he and his friends managed quite well. They stayed like this for what seemed to be an eternity, his tail switching back and forth and ears twitching on his helm in an increasingly annoying way, but he didn’t try to stop them, too concentrate on the other. Then the next moment the other lunged at him and he bolted toward the entry and into a hallway without looking back to see if the other was following him, which, if the noises were proof enough, he was. Right, left, through an archway, he tried to lose the other, but each time he though he managed it, Megatron would appeared in front of him, ready to catch him. He only managed to evade him because of his speed and agility, and even then it was always a close call. He promised himself here and there that he would thank Prowl for his lessons … if it wasn’t for them he didn’t think he would have slip away from the other grasp so much. 

And he could tell it was infuriating the other. 

If only he could find the exit. Or better yet comm’ the others !

… comm’ ? That’s it! _Why didn’t I think of this earlier?!_ He fustigated himself before opening le comm link. “Optimus to Autobot Base, do you copy? Optimus to Base!” He stifled a curse when the only answer he got was statics. Jamming signal. Figure. A black servo coming to his left made him jump to the right, narrowly missing slamming into the wall and slipping into another corridor. _Just how big is this place?!_ He though desperately, looking left and right for a window, a door, anything that could lead him outside and away from the nightmare currently chasing him. Another turn, another corridor … and he almost slid to a stop when he saw Lugnut, who seemed as surprised at seeing him as he was him. Well, he was in their Headquarter. He slip by him without stopping, and then by Blitzwing who only blinked, his pot of crystal flowers held high as he passed to avoid it breaking. 

Who knew the triple changer with the personality disorder was into crystal flowers? It really was a day full of surprises!

“Halt, Autobot scum!” Exclaimed Lugnut once the situation made it to his processor, “In the name of -”

“Move, you fool!”

A loud ‘thung’ echoed, and it didn’t take a genius to guess Megatron pushed the other aside so he could continue on his course. At least it did slow down the other somewhat, enough so he could slip away. 

“To all Decepticons; the first to attack the Autobot will be slowly and painfully deactivated by me.”

Great. Now everyone knew he was here. Entering another room he stopped, his vents working hard to cool him down, and realized with dismay that he was back to square one. What was he going to do now?! Quickly looking around, he decided to go for the spacebridge. If he got here, then it must be fully functional. All he had to do was enter the coordinates and make sure to erase them after. Going to the control panel he started tapping, glad he had made sure everyone of his crew knew how to operate it in case of an emergency. More focused on what he was doing than in his surrounding, he didn’t hear nor see Megatron slowly getting closer till a black servo was slammed down next to his and a large frame pressed against his back, trapping him to the console. 

“Got you, little Prime.” A mouth murmured to his audial. “Now, what shall I do with my prize, hmm?” The other nuzzled his neck, gentle kisses making him tremble slightly. “How about releasing me and let me go home?” He tried, glad to hear that his voice didn’t wavered. A sinful chuckle answered him, combined with wandering digits slowly tracing his hips joints. Well … at least he tried. Blushing when one of his ears was nibble, he turned around to push the other off him, pedes firmly planted on the ground, his blush deepening when the base of his tail was stroke, a whimper on his lips when it tightened a little. Pleasurable jolts went coursing through his frame, heating it, and he bit his lips to stifle a moan. How could the other rev him up so easily?! And how could he enjoy it when he knew who it was?! He had to admit it though, he always found the other intriguing, charismatic, and the feeling of being pressed against the larger frame, bending to his will and letting him use him in any … STOP !! 

Shaking his helm to remove these thoughts from his processor he glared up at Megatron, determined to ignore the caresses, and threw his right fist at his face. The fact it was caught effortlessly didn’t deter him (it almost _always_ happen when they meet anyway), and he immediately tried with his left one, grunting when it was also caught. 

“Cute try, little one, but don’t expect me to release you when I have you in such an … interesting position.” Damn to the Pit this mech and his voice! Backing up as much as he could in his position, Optimus hissed angrily when he realized just how little he could move, and when his arms were bend above his head, he knew he was trap for good. “Now, will you surrender?” Megatron asked, one servo keeping his two in place while the other trailed down to his leg, teasing. 

Megatron had always though it was amusing how easily the Autobots let their emotions show, but he found it was particularly appealing with this one. And what he found even more captivating was that in battles, and even now, he never gives up. Snarling, growling, Pit, even hissing, the young Prime didn’t stop struggling against his grasp, even knowing he could do next to nothing trapped like he was. And if he didn’t stop grinding against his codpiece, he would not be able to control himself and take him right here and there.

On second though … it was not a bad idea. But he didn’t think the young Prime would like interfacing in such an open place … at least now. For now, he had another idea. In one swift movement he had the younger one on his shoulder plate, much to Optimus horror as he stared befuddled at the gray back, one servo keeping him from falling while Megatron made his way to his quarters. At least Optimus’ pride wasn’t totally shattered since they didn’t encounter any Decepticons. _Thank Primus for small blessings,_ he thought morosely, pushing and hitting the Warlord’s back and legs kicking the air behind him, smirking at the small grunt he heard when one of his legs hit a sensitive place, only to yelp when his backside was slapped. The message was clear, and with a defeated sigh he stopped … for the moment. But he still didn’t like it. Not paying attention to his surrounding, he didn’t realize they stopped until he was roughly put down, his back and helm colliding with hard metal. Disoriented, it took him a moment to comprehend where he was, and Megatron was already towering over him, optics dark and locked on his widened ones. 

Oh frag. Please tell him it was not what he thought!

His optics darted to the door, and his spark sank when he heard the tale-tell click of it locking close. Frame freezing, he looked back at his captor. “This will make sure no one disturb us.” He purred, leaning in to nuzzle his neck, biting and licking the sensitive wires here. Gasping in shocked pleasure, Optimus resumed struggling, only for Megatron to growl and bit harder, puncturing a line. “Don’t make me tie you down … unless that’s what you want of course? I wouldn’t mind.” He then licked the energon leaking from the small wound, dragging his glossa up his jaw and to his lips, kissing him harshly. Taken by surprise, Optimus however kept his mouth resolutely shut, denying access to the Decepticon’s glossa wanting in. He may not be able to fight back like he wanted, but that didn’t mean he would let Megatron have his way with him! Even if the growling resounding through his frame was making him go weak on his knees … figuratively speaking, since he was laying down. But he couldn’t help gasping when a servo traced his outer thigh, clever fingers delving between in leg and hips joint, caressing. Damn it!

Megatron smirked and took the opportunity to thrust his glossa in, groaning at the lingering taste of sweet energon and Optimus unique flavor. Mapping the other’s mouth, he urged the other to participate, and he grinned when the other’s glossa started to move, shyly at first, but then gaining in confidence and starting battling with his. The younger one was giving in, slowly, little bit by little bit, and soon he would be giving himself entirely to him in mind, body and, if he has a say, in spark too. But this part will have to wait for later, when the war will end with his victory.  
Whining against the lips covering his and tears threatening to spill from his optics when the wandering servos run up and down his overheating frame, digits searching for each parcel of sensitive metal and wires and lingering on them once found, face reddening at the noises leaving his throat each time they were played with, Optimus was at a lost as to what to do. His comlink wasn’t functioning, his friends didn’t know where he was, or even if he was still on Earth, and he couldn’t see how he could get away from the Warlord. 

That and his mind was beginning to become blank. 

“Don’t fight it, little Prime” Megatron murmured against an antenna, one servo coming up to play with his neck-cables, pinching and pulling them, and he moaned before clenching his dentas and turning his helm away, away from the Decepticon’s touch and mouth, away from his voice. Halas for him it didn’t deter Megatron, and he blushed bright red, optics widening and then turning to glare at the other, dentas clenching almost painfully as he felt a large servo stroking his codpiece, pressure light and teasing, but here nonetheless. “Go rust in the Pit!” He hissed, ears folded back. 

“My, such language.” The Warlord admonished, caressing the metal under his servo, fingers searching for the manual catch. “Maybe I should shut you up, what do you say?”

“I say you are a fragging lunatic!” Optimus answered, wriggling under the other and closing his legs. Megatron sighed, but then smirked when he found what he was searching for, the younger one stopping his squirming immediately with a look of near horror on his faceplate. “Now … let’s see if I can change your mind.” 

“Don-mmph!” A kiss was again forced upon his lips just as a click was heard, distracting him of the servo spreading his legs, the Warlord using his bulk to make sure he couldn’t close them again. He squeaked when a wandering digit run up the rim of his valve, glossa battling with his for dominance and for a moment he forgot where he was, and with who. He uttered a slight moan when his anterior node was teased, the finger circling, pressing and pinching it, and he involuntarily arched his back in hope of more, gasping. When was the last time somebot pleasured him like this, taking the time to map his frame and find every spot that was making his cry in pleasure? Too long, that’s it, and in his haze he didn’t even care who was giving it to him. 

Frag it he couldn’t lose it!

Growling he bit the lips covering his till he could taste energon and arched up harshly, slamming against the other. Surprised by this renewed ferocity and by the sudden pain, Megatron jerked his helm away and sat up a little, enough for Optimus to turn around and crawl away. A low growl made him know his attempt was most definitely not welcome, and he cried out in surprise when he was pinned down on the make-shift berth, his frame entirely covered by the other’s one, weight making it nearly impossible to move. “If you do not behave, don’t expect me to be gentle.” Megatron snarled before biting his ear and getting a pained yelp from him, one servo grasping his tail tightly at its base. Chocking on a sob Optimus relented and forced his frame to relax, going almost limp under the other. It was almost frustrating how these changes could affect him in such way. “That’s better.” The weight was lift, but Optimus didn’t dare move, merely turning his helm to the side, his face half hidden by his arm. A warm mouth trailed kiss down his helm, starting with his antenna, his audio receptor, to the wires of his neck, distracting him of the servo palming his valve, warm digits teasing it. He bit back a moan when one of them entered him, slowly thrusting in and out while the mouth was playing with his neck. A yelp was pulled from him when a second was added, the burning stretch and slight pain surprising him. Primus he already felt full! The Decepticon’s digits were large, and associate with the fact he didn’t indulge himself since a long time didn’t help. 

“Don’t tense up.” Megatron murmured against his neck, feeling the valve’s calipers gripping his fingers tightly. It was obvious with how tight he was that the younger one didn’t interface often, and while it only made him thirst for more, it would only be painful if he didn’t stretch him properly, for both him and the Autobot. “You need to relax.”

“I know!” Optimus snapped, briefly tensing before relaxing as much as he could in his situation. He released a breath and whined, blushing when he felt lubricant starting to slide down his legs. Megatron didn’t reprimand him for his outburst, simply chuckling before a servo crept around his helm to turn it toward the other’s to kiss him deeply. This time he didn’t resist, and even eagerly participated. Everything to make him forget. Didn’t the humans have a saying for this? Oh yeah; ‘If you can’t fight it, accept it’ or something like that. Well, he sure didn’t want to be forced, and it was not like he could escape, so maybe the better thing to do was to let the other do whatever he wanted to do with him … for the moment. 

He gasped for air when his mouth was released and was surprise when the warm weigh on his back disappeared, wondering what was happening now, only to cry in shocked pleasure when something wet came sliding between the fingers still preparing him. Oh Primus, his glossa …! Optimus though with a moan, back arching to have more. It seemed like every sensors, every calipers were pressed, caressed, and he was soon moaning and gasping, mouth and processor only clicks away from begging. It only encouraged Megatron, lips pulling up in a smirk and glossa reaching as far inside as he could while spreading his fingers and thrusting them in and out, the tips playing with the numerous sensors inside. He was almost painfully hard now, energy almost cracking in the air surrounding him when he finally pulled out, getting an annoyed whined from Optimus who glared back at him. His eyes though widened when Megatron let his spike pressuring, cod piece shifting to let his spike stand proudly.  
Optimus didn’t resist when he was turned on his back, apprehension coming back with the force of a meteor and frame freezing. Megatron was a tall mech, taller than the majority of the Autobot but Ultra Magnus, and … well, his equipment was proportional. Now he wasn’t big enough to cause damages since he was prepare (with he was thankful for), but he sure will be sore for a while. Very. Sore. Why do the Decepticons have to be so big anyway?!

Megatron saw the look, but didn’t say nor do anything, merely choosing to wait, resuming caressing the frame under him. A look passed between them, and after a brief moment Optimus offered a small grateful smile before nodding. Then he gasped, optics shifting to the celling as he was breach, the other having fully thrusted inside in one powerful movement. A growl reached his audios, but at the moment it barely registered. All he could think of was how full he was, valve stretched to its limit, and that if he didn’t compose himself he would soon overheat. Thankfully his processor took over and his cooling fans blared to life, and it seemed to be the signal the other was waiting for to start moving. 

It started slow, Megatron sliding in and out without applying much force, quite content to let the charge build and the valve surrounding him stretch to accommodate him, his optics feasting on the sigh of the slim Autobot writhing under him, optics closed and back arching in the slightest movement to meet him, mewling every time he pushed in. He was also quite amused by the tail that encircled his right thigh when he started speeding up a little, the appendage clenching around his thigh. It was quite … entertaining. Grabbing the slim waist to have a little more leverage, Megatron resumed his pounding, delighted by the cries and moans of pleasure that kept coming from the little Prime, growling low in his throat himself when the calipers tightened around his spike, statics surrounding them and heightening the sensations. His spark was pulsing, demanding to be let out and to merge with the others, but he kept it inside. He hadn’t yet decides if he would merge with the young Autobot or not, it being a more intimate part of interfacing, and a risk of deactivation he was not sure he wanted to take. _Then again,_ he though, looking down at the bot squirming in bliss under him, mouth opened to let out delicious sounds, ears folded back and servos grapping the berth as if it was an anchor, _it wouldn’t be a problem <=._ And he did admit he had his optics on the Prime since some times now. He smirked to himself. How would Magnus react learning that one of his little protégés was now his? He thrust hard at the thought, earning a cry of his name, then repeated it, starting a punishing pace that sent the Prime howling. 

Optimus cried out, his thoughts a shamble as he was roughly taken, valve pulsing and burning in pained and pleasurable way that made his processor almost go blank. He opened his optics to meet darkened red ones, and he couldn’t look away. A particularly hard thrust on a cluster of sensors had him reeling, and he could tell he was only seconds away from baring his spark to the other’s whim. It was only his meager control that was keeping his chest plates close. He yelped when his position change suddenly, and blushed when he found himself mere centimeters from the Warlord’s faceplate. But he couldn’t delve on it since he resumed moving, the thrusts somehow hitting deeper, and he moaned when his spike rub between their plates. He was almost drowned into the heat and pleasure.  
“AHhh! Me-Megatron …!” He moaned, his servos gripping the shoulder plates tightly as he rode the other, finally letting his chest plate open, baring his spark, his life source to the one who tried to kill him and his friends so often, not even concerned about what it implied. 

He bit his lips, his whole being calling the other, his overload rapidly approaching, and on impulse he raised his helm to Megatron’s level and kissed him, glossa darting out to meet with the other, a needy moan escaping. Purring, and slightly surprised, Megatron raised the force of his thrusts and opened his chest plate, red light pouring out to join with the blue one. With one servo he pulled the other to him and let out a hoarse cry, energy crackling as their sparks met, dimly hearing another cry next to him as overload took him and sent his senses aflame. 

.........................................................................

Optimus continued trembling even after the shock wore off, frame limp against the other and quite content to remain where he was and falling into recharge. It didn’t help that Megatron engine was purring against him and lulling him. Who knew Megatron was so comfortable to rest upon? He didn’t even move when Megatron changed their position, one servo on the small of his back as he reclined against the berth with him on him. Yeah, strange position for two swore enemies to be in, but at this point it didn’t seem to count, optics dimming as he fell into peaceful recharge. This could wait later …


	2. Chapter 2

His frame was itching. 

Ever since what happened that day it hasn’t stop. _And it’s becoming annoying,_ he thought while scratching absently at a protruding ear. What was worse was that, while he did finally made it to Cybertron after using the Decepticon’s bridge while Megatron was recharging, Wheeljack and Perceptor made it quite clear that he would take a few more days to come up with an antidote. 

He smirked. It had been amusing when he had met with Sentinel and Jazz, his fellow Prime using the smaller mech to hide himself. It was only when Perceptor had confirmed that he was not a Techno-organic that he had stopped hiding and regained his pompous and condescending attitude.

But even then he had stayed at least ten feet from him. 

So here was, on his second trip to Cybertron, looking blankly at the two scientists, frame itching and dread slowly installing itself in his processor, a single word repeating itself “… What?” Surely he had heard wrong!

Perceptor didn’t change his tone when he repeated. Heck, there was no change in him at all, even as Wheeljack rolled his optics at his question, a huff escaping him. 

“There is no cure. You will have to wait for the effects to dissipate.” 

And no, his audio receptors were not faulty. If possible his recently acquired ears went back down even more on his helm, and his servos clenched. “Is there really no other way to reverse it?” He asked in a low voice, spark still hoping even though he knew the answer. 

“Well, we could always cut them,” Whelljack mused, smirking behind his mask at the small squeak the young Prime emitted, tail curling around a leg. “But we don’t know what would happen then. For all we know, they could regrow … or worse.”

“… I think I will wait.” Optimus said, voice tight, making the old scientist laugh. 

.................................................................

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait. Barely a little more than three weeks later he was pleasantly surprised to see the tail and the ears had disappeared in the night, much to his relief. Sari had pouted, claiming he was ‘adorable’ with them, but he personally couldn’t be happier (but he had seen with her father that every samples left were destroyed … just in case). 

Now if his frame would stop itching …

“Any sight of it?” He asked through his com’ link, his own optics searching for the elusive little thing. 

“Nothing on my end, Prime.” 

“Nothing here beside trees and more and more trees. How can there be that much in the same place anyway?!”

“It is called a forest, Bumblebee … it is supposed to be full of them.”

“Yeah, well why couldn’t it have chosen somewhere else to hide?! I don’t know, the city maybe.”

“Birds like this one don’t live in cities.”

“You would know that uh, nature-bot!”

“ _Would you two stop arguing like an old couple already!!_ ”

Optimus sighed at the banter going on, slowly making his way up a (for the humans) huge tree to see if it would help him. Blessed silence installed itself for a few moments, before it was again shattered by the yellow bot’s cry;

“Oh yew, Ratchet ! … Yew. I will pretend you never said that!”

Biting back another sigh, Optimus rolled his optics before going back down on the ground. “Must I remind you that we must find the fragment _before_ the Decepticons find it?!” He lectured, a frown coming on his face at the though. It was a wonder that he _still_ had to remind them of this little fact. 

“But Optimus, how do we know it’s still out there?” Sari asked from her place on ‘Bee’s shoulder plate, using her own com’ link. It was a great change for her since her transformation, but she was adapting. As long as there was no other accident with her power … “For all we know it could have flew somewhere else.”

“Scans are still reading a great power source in there, so I wouldn’t worry about it.” He answered back, shoulders sagging slightly. He wouldn’t tell the others, but he too was wondering if they would ever find it in the vast forest. “We must-” 

He stopped suddenly and turned, optics scanning, and he frowned when he didn’t see anything. Weird, he would have sworn he had heard something. He focused back on his com-link when Ratchet called his name, “Everything’s alright … Must have been an animal. Anyway, continue the research.” 

He glanced back once more, but seeing nothing put it on his growing paranoia. 

Or - he hopped - it was the remains of his part animal mind. 

“Must be the stress.” He murmured to himself, returning to his search. He scanned the forest for a long time, looking in every trees and bushes, but after more than one hour and some bickering teammates later, there was still no sigh from the elusive bird. 

Another rustling made him turn, frame stiffening and readying for battle, only to sage when he saw it was only a fox, its eyes looking an instant at him before bolting away. _Must have taken me for a predator,_ he thought. 

“Fancy meeting you here, Autobot.”

_Or maybe not **me**._

His vents hitched when two arms went around him and took hold of his arms to pin them to his back. He winced when he heard the metal and gears straining, but otherwise didn’t made a sound. Instead he turned his helm, craning it up look at the other in the optics … or at least try. “I should have known you would be there.” He hissed. “Unhand me!”

“Now, why should I do that, little Prime.” Megatron asked in a near purr, a dangerous smirk pulling on his lips. 

Gritting his dentas Optimus tried squirming out of the Warlord’s grasp, pulling his arms and kicking with his pedes. “Stop this, unless you want me to order my Decepticons to attack your precious comrades.”

Optimus stopped, fear paralyzing him for a moment, before struggling anew. “Always using underhand tactics … - a pull - always taking the others by surprises … - a kick - and using the others to attain your goals! _– another kick -_ ” 

“Deception. But if it’s a honest fight you want,” He gasped when he was suddenly released, stumbling and nearly falling before regaining his balance and turning to face the older mech. Then his processor stalled. No, it couldn’t be ... The sound of an explosion made him startle, and he turned toward the sound. 

“Ah. It seems your little friends found my men.” The Warmonger noted distractedly, his gaze going to his left before returning on his enemy. “But, while it would be nice to get my servo on the Allspark fragment, I must admit it was not the only thing I wanted to catch this day.”

His red optics darkened, gray tail switching back and forth behind him in anticipation, and Optimus took a step back, what had happened all those days ago returning to him as distinctly as if it had happened the day before. His face started heating. “I suggest you start running, Optimus Prime.”

He didn’t have to say this twice, not with the hungry look he was giving him. Optimus bolted, going for the trees and where he knew the forest was the densest. But while half of his processor was on his situation, the other half was wondering if his friends were alright. Uhg, he hated days like this! Why can’t he have peace for a change?! 

Zigzagging between the trees and rocks, Optimus darted his look back, audio receptors going at full capacity to see if his pursuer was close. Hearing nothing but the rustling due to his own running he looked back forward and opened his com-link; 

“Optimus here, is everything alright on your side?” He continued advancing while waiting for a response, every once in a while glancing back to see if Megatron was coming closer.

“Prowl here. We are under attack from Blitzwing and Lugnut. Bumblebee is caught in the ice and Sari is unconscious. Ratchet is taking care of them. What is your position?”

“I’m currently leading Megatron away,” _At least I hope._ “Fall back. Return to the Base.” A moment of silence followed, soon cut by the ninja’s voice. “It … might be difficult.”

“What are- … Prowl? Prowl, do you copy?! Prowl? Ratchet? Bulkhead?!”

Only silence answered him and he cursed. If nobody was answering him it meant that something had happened. He changed his course, turning to his left and ready to rejoin them, but he had not taken three steps that a servo came out of nowhere and nearly caught him. He came to a screeching stop, his pedes returning the soft grass, only to leap aside in order to avoid being cut in half, bringing his axe out in the same movement.

“What did you do to them?!” He growled, glaring at the taller mech.

“You mean to your dear friends?” Megatron inquired, a dark smirk toying on his lips. “My mechs have incapacitated them. I didn’t want some … interruption.” 

“I’m not afraid of you, Megatron.”

“And that’s what I like about you, Optimus, your fiery and yet caring attitude. That and hearing you cry my designation when drowning in pleasure.” He purred back. 

Optimus felt his face growing hot, his arms suddenly seemingly weak under the weight of his axe, but he kept his stance. He bit back a hissed when those dark optics trailed down his frame, but couldn’t contain a shudder when they locked with his. Phantoms of the pleasurable touches from the last time they met were making his plates burn and he shook his helm, grip tightening. 

Megatron growled at the defiant stance, ears going back and instincts urging him to catch the Autobot, his prey. At first he had wanted to capture him to answer his questions as to what was happening to him, why what was infecting the Prime the last time he saw him had passed to him, but the moment he had landed his optics on the slim but strong figure, and his defiant optics, he changed his mind. His problem could wait a little more. And since the Prime was before him and well, it meant it was neither fatal nor irreversible. Another growl, deeper than the other, left his throat. 

The air grew still around them. Then Megatron moved, launching himself at the Prime who dodged, throwing himself on the side and using his free arm to slide in such a way that he was still facing the Decepticon. Megatron merely smirked, before attacking again. 

“Come on Prime,” He goaded. “Show it to me. Show me this desire to stop me, to escape me!” He continued attacking, slowly tiring the other and baking him up onto a tree, his lust growing at each attack countered, each meeting of their arms, and the defiance in those blue optics were a call to him; a call to make them submit. “But I do wonder,” He continued, purring when Optimus’ back collided with the bark of a tree, a soft surprised yelp escaping his lips. He didn’t miss the opportunity, wrenching the axe from his servos and throwing it somewhere, to pin him into it. “Is it what you want?” He murmured into an audial fin.

“Of course I don’t want to be near you, who would?!” Optimus cried, his processor a mess between what it was telling him, his frame heating up, the shame he was felling because of it, and this _fragging itching that wouldn’t let him in peace!_ He tried hitting the other, but the Warlord merely dodged the hit to his head, pressing himself more against the smaller mech. 

“You wound me, little Prime.” Megatron rumbled, his ears twitching at the barely heard hiss emitted by the Prime. Sheathing one of his swords, he trailed a servo down to a blue hip, the touch featherlike. “You didn’t think that the last time we met.”

Optimus trembled minutely at the dark tone, images of what happened in the Warlord’s quarter flashing in his CPU, the pleasure he felt then still vivid, but he contained it.

Or at least tried.

Turning his helm to glare at the mech, his lips pulled back into a snarl Optimus grabbed the wandering servo with his own, tightening his grasp till he felt dents forming. He might not be as strong as the other, but he was still a Prime. Granted it barely must faze Megatron, but it had the merit to make him know he wasn’t appreciating his … whatever that was. 

And he would be damned to the Pit if he admitted the low rumbling he got in response was making his frame tremble.

In return he tightened his grip with all the force he could manage, all the while glaring at his enemy and wondering how he should proceed. He was pinned to a tree, his arms almost too, and he had barely any room to move. He tried to move his legs, but all he managed was to shift them a little.

He was stuck. 

Frag it.

Then a servo was suddenly taking hold of his chin, raising it, and he was kiss. Deeply. Thoroughly. He unconsciously closed his optics, thrusting his helm back till it collided with the tree, but never did Megatron stopped kissing him, the lips becoming harsher, more forceful. Suddenly his servo wasn’t holding anything anymore and he was pulled to the warm frame of the Warmonger by a servo on his aft, the appendage lifting him easily to aid with their height difference. 

He thought he heard a moan, and then a growl, but it was lost to him. And at this moment, he didn’t care. All he cared about was the powerful frame holding him, the glossa that was battling with his and making him oh so slowly surrender … and the slow grinding against his codpiece. 

Then his processor reboot and came to a scratching halt at the same moment, deciding to remained him just _who_ he was making out with.

_No!_ He wrenched his mouth away, “Stop!” He gasped, blindly moving his arms to push at the other, getting a growl in respond to his resistance. Then his vision suddenly shifted and his face-plate was pressed against the tree, the coolness contrasting with the heated, burning, frame pressing close on his back. He tried pushing, but the other wouldn’t bulge. _Curse the Decepticons and their larger frames!_

“Yes, that’s it, keep resisting! It will only make it more interesting, more” He leaned on his shoulder, lips brushing his neck cable, “ _exciting._ ” 

Optimus trembled, his face heating in embarrassment. Primus he couldn’t even try to escape without it coming back to bite his aft. “Release me!” He yelled while pushing on the tree, the bark groaning under the pressure but at the moment he didn’t care. Heck, he would gladly welcome it if the tree went to fall; at least he would be free. He gasped as the grinding resume, the slow movements sending tingles in the sensitive metal, and he bit back a cry when a large servo went around his hips to caress the front, fingers teasing the wires between his legs and hips plates. It was just by cheer willpower that he managed to keep his plates closes. 

Megatron frowned. His patience was thinning, and while he liked teasing his prey and watch him wriggle deliciously under his touch, it was taking too long for his lust clouded processor. 

He blamed whatever had happened to him. 

Without realizing it a growl built up in his throat.

Hearing the sound Optimus tensed, then cried in alarm as he was suddenly picked up and thrown face first on the hard ground, a heavy frame pinning him a fraction of second later. “Open.” Megatron growled from behind the Prime, biting the pliable metal of his throat when he refused to comply, grinding harshly against his codpiece. “Do I have to open it for you?”

With a sob-like gasp Optimus shook his helm, this time in compliance, and let his frame do what it wanted to do since the beginning, his legs going slightly weak when he felt his valve leaking, light purple lubricant trickling down his thighs, his spike hard. Primus if his friend were seeing him like this …

Megatron straightened, one servo still maintaining the other in place – even if by this point he was sure it wasn’t need – and grinded his dentas together as he took in the Prime, down on his knees, frame burning and spike and valve bared, begging to be touch. His spark flared at the same time as his lust. “Such a sigh.” He murmured, one finger tracing the rim of the valve, lightly, smearing the lubricant. “You are so wet. Maybe you don’t need preparations after all. What do you say, Prime? Should I stretch you with my fingers or,” He leaned over the smaller frame, his mouth mere centimeters from an audio sensor, “should I burry my spike in your tight valve?”

Optimus whimpered, calipers clenching on nothing at the thought of being impaled without any kind on preparation. He gasped as he felt the digit enter him slightly and curling, scrapping against the nodes it could reach before withdrawing. It was as if he was back at the Decepticon base, when all he could then feel was the Warlord around and in him. He rocked forward with a startle gasp when two digits entered him unceremoniously and stayed still. 

“Well?” Megatron purred against the pale neck, biting on the wires as the valve clamped on his fingers, massaging them. He curled them a fraction and was reward by a stifled moan and a buck of blue hips, and he repeat the motion just to hear him again. He would have teased him more, too, but he himself couldn’t hold on anymore. Next time, he promised himself. 

Optimus twitched when he felt the finger leaving his valve, and he looked back in time to see the larger mech stroking his spike in slow movements, smearing lubricant on it. 

His lubricant. 

His face flushed. 

Then the blunt end of it was pressing against the soft pliable lips of his valve and the reality of the situation came crashing down. “D-don’t …!” He gasped when the head entered; a long whimper leaving him at the smooth slide of the spike, up until the metal of Megatron’s pelvic met his own. He was so full! He was just glad when the other didn’t immediately move, although from the harsh breathing he was hearing he was probably just revealing in the feelings. 

“You are so tight.” Megatron growled, pulling out just enough to see his lubricant covered spike before plunging in back in a hard thrust. He saw the Prime move one of his servo to his mouth, stifling what would surely have been a loud cry, and he reached out to take his arm by the wrist, twisting it to his back, “Don’t muffle your cries, Prime. I want to hear you cry my designation by the time I’m finish with you!” Megatron growled, thrusting harder in the slowly loosening valve.

Optimus moaned, his free servo digging in the ground as he was pounded from behind. As a last attempt he tried to activate his wrist grappling, but then his ceiling node was hit and he had to grip the soil to keep himself from falling. 

Not that it was helping a lot.

“No … more …” He managed to say between moans, before mewling when in another thrust his nodes were strike one by one. He opened his optics (when had he closed them?), when the spike suddenly withdraw, and he was turned over by a large servo so he was now facing the grey mech, his back arching when he plunged back inside, hard. The new position was making it easier for the other to go deeper, each movement hitting his ceiling node, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He felt his legs being grab and pulled till they were resting between the Lord’s shoulders and neck, and he cried in pleasure when his anterior node was tease by a thumb. A deep growl answered his cry and he was kissed, the tyrant’s glossa entering his mouth to battle with his, fangs grazing at his lips, the other never stopping moving his hips. His servos found purchase in the Warlord’s arms, tightening, the coil in his lower plating tightening in approaching overload. The lips left his, and he moaned when they went back to his neck, one servo leaving its hold to go grab the grey helm, pulling him more toward the sensitive wires. “Ahhh!! P-please!” 

Megatron growled against the neck-cables at the pleasured cry. He lapped the droplets of energon from where he had punctured them before pulling back, gritting his dentas as the valve clenched around his spike. He reached between their frame, taking the leaking spike into his servo, his optics drinking as Optimus thrust his helm back with a cry. 

It was too much, he couldn’t … couldn’t … Optimus arched as he overload, smearing transfluid on his chestplate and Megatron’s servo, mewling as Megatron released inside him, each spurt hitting the back of his valve and sending delicious tingles through his frame.

He kept his optics close even as Megatron’s weigh came to rest on him, nor did he try to move. Frankly, at the moment he didn’t want to do anything except stay where he was and fall into recharge. He whimpered a little when Megatron pulled out, not even blushing at this point when he felt transfluid leaking from his valve and down his tights. Soon his cooling fans were merely humming noiselessly, and it took all his energy to poke at the Warlord currently using him as a pillow. “You are heavy. Get off.” He murmured. Yeah, he didn’t even have the energy to be angry or resentful. The Warlord chuckled, but did shift so he wasn’t crushing him. Well … it’s better than nothing, he guessed, shifting a little as a large arm came to rest around him, his helm resting next to the other's chestplate. He just hoped no one would see him like this. And what will he say to his friends this time?

“You are thinking too much.” Megatron rumble above him. In spit he gave him a tap – which he was sure was barely felt – on his side. 

“It’s your fault. Now shut up.”

Megatron only smirk, tail switching contently behind him. 

Well, at least he wasn’t itching anymore …


End file.
